Breaking Point
by bertiebert
Summary: Martin finally reaches his breaking point one day and Douglas is there to pick up the pieces.


**Written for the Cabin Pressure fic prompt: **_Martin whump, Martin stressed out to tears, h/c_

* * *

><p>Martin ran a shaking hand through his ginger curls, pacing around his living room. He snatched his phone up when it started to ring, answering it more snappishly than he'd intended. It was <em>another<em> client, calling to cancel their appointment. He was down to one more person in need of his van today. He'd started with seven. He tried to calm himself by making himself a meager lunch and watching a movie, but all hope was lost when his last client rang to cancel. He threw his mobile at the wall, watching as the battery dislodged and the phone fell to the floor in three pieces. Tears of frustration welled up in his eyes and he was unable to stop them. Collapsing on the couch, Martin could only submit to the stress of the day. It was his only day that week to make any money. He would have to forgo any shopping next week after his upcoming flights.

It was a few minutes later—or had it been longer?—that he heard a knock. Peeling himself off the sofa, Martin shuffled dejectedly towards the door, scrubbing at his eyes with his sleeve. He was surprised to find Douglas standing on the other side of his front door.

"Is something wrong, Martin?" Douglas asked, his voice uncharacteristically gentle, as he stepped inside.

"No," Martin lied, but he inwardly winced as his voice cracked.

With just a look, Martin knew Douglas didn't believe him, but he'd be damned if he let on about his money struggles. Douglas didn't press on, though, until Martin had made him a cup of tea and he'd seen inside his bare cupboards. It was too concerning not to bring up.

"Martin, how are you off for money?"

"Fine, Douglas. Just fine," Martin brushed him off, hoping he didn't sound too uneasy.

"How many clients do you have scheduled for today?" Douglas touched Martin's hand, the contact meant to be comforting, but it just set Martin off. Their fledgling relationship still unnerved Martin, especially when he felt Douglas pitied him.

"None, okay, Douglas," Martin snapped, jumping off the couch. "I haven't got a single client today. I had seven, but they all cancelled. I will make no money today and I won't be able to go shopping next week after our flights. Is that what you wanted to hear? That I'm scraping by while you and Carolyn, and even bloody Arthur, are living perfectly happy with no worries about when you'll be able to have your next meal."

Martin practically spat the last word, still fuming. He didn't realize he was crying until Douglas stood and wiped his thumbs over his cheeks, kissing his forehead. Douglas drew him into his arms, cradling Martin's head in his hand as the younger man let the tears come. It was better to be wrapped in the warmth of your lover's arms than the fabric of the couch, Martin decided. Much better. Once Martin was calm and curled up against Douglas's side on the couch, Douglas broached the subject of most of their arguments.

"I want you to come live with me, Martin. You refuse to let me give you money, so the least I can do is provide you with everything else. I can't just watch you struggle with putting food on the table and paying your rent. You look like you haven't eaten a proper meal in weeks. I'm really beginning to worry about you, love."

Still wiping tears from his eyes, Martin sniffled and pressed closer to Douglas. "Alright," he finally whispered. "I'll move in with you."

Kissing the younger man's head, Douglas held him close. His money situation must be worse than Douglas thought if he finally gave in that easily. He wasn't going to say anything, though. It was bad enough that Martin had to begin to rely on Douglas for food and a place to sleep; Douglas wouldn't rub it in his face. Martin felt much better now that he'd cried himself out and wasn't going to have to worry about food and rent. He had Douglas and it made him happy to have just that.

Having someone who cared about him was much more than he could ever ask for.


End file.
